My Friends Were Right All Along, But I Held On, I Held On...

Everly - She Walks By


Do you ever read news articles and just say to yourself, "wow, I think I already knew that. I didn't really need a reporter to tell me that." I know I do. Take, for example, this article, entitled "Virginity pledges don't mean much, study says."

Gigawhat?? A teenager saying that they aren't going to have sex doesn't really mean anything?? Thank you scientists! I thought it was iron-clad!! Sneaky bastards...


Oh, and time-out. I totally got my hair cut today. It was terrifying.

Let's keep in mind that the last time I got a haircut was almost two full years ago, so when she cut off my ponytail, she couldn't stop giggling, and I almost cried. Here, let me tell you the whole story.

So I make my friend come with me, because I knew that if he didn't I'd have never made it in the door (judging from the fact that I stopped at the front door, tried to turn around, and only went in because he kicked me in the shins, and vowed to continue until I "grew some balls").

So I finally made it in the door at one of the local schools of cosmetology, and went to the front desk, and the woman told me that while I should have made an appointment, I could probably be fit in. So we took a seat.

After a minute or two, I worked up the nerve to open my eyes and look about me, and I realized that every person getting their hair cut in this place was at least 75 years old. Yeah. Every person that was either having their hair cut or waiting to do so was an old person. I still don't know why this was. There was never any explanation. Perhaps it was the complimentary cans of Ensure handed out at the door...

But anyhoo, after the old people were attended to, one of the students came up to me and my friend and called my name. When I stood up, and smiled and cheered a little. Apparently she was excited to cut the hair of what appeared to be a yeti, as opposed to my clean cut amigo.

So she asks me what I would like to do with my hair ("I need to donate my ponytail, and then just make my hair not look like poop. But most importantly, I don't ever want to have to do anything with it past shampooing and conditioning"). She was super excited at the prospect of just cutting off my ponytail. Apparently one of the other students got to do so a few days ago, and she was terribly jealous.

But she seemed confident that she could meet my requests, and she hummed gaily as she went about putting my hair into a very tight ponytail. After she cut off the ponytail and tossed it on my lap, which was the creepiest event of my life, she went about dealing with the rest of my hair.
Let me tell you, this girl was a master. Plus, she was a total baller. We talked about everything. At one point, we got on the topic of NERF guns. No, I don't know how. We both also discussed our families, and at one point, GayRoommate came up, as I was telling her why the faux-hawk is the worst hairstyle ever. "He can only get away with it because he's gay." (Just for the record, she totally agreed: "You're right. Gays only.")

By about halfway through the haircut, most of the other students had finished their people, and we were apparently nearing closing time, so they started gathering around my seat, along with all the instructors. Occasionally they'd throw out helpful tidbits of information:

"Wow, you're gonna be cold."

"Look at that pile of hair!"

and my favorite, "Get there son!"

But she finished off, and then said to me, "I think I'm going to tussle it."

"Lauren," I say, "girl please! You said I wouldn't have to do anything with it!"

"This will take two seconds."

"I don't have that kind of time in the morning!"

"Are you serious right now? TWO SECONDS."

"Dammit! Fine! But I'm going to have to take back the months of ridicule that I've given to my roommate for gelling his hair every morning!"

So she proceeded professionally tussled my hair. Though it took her roughly 14 seconds, so I'm pretty sure that's what we call a lie, miss Lauren.

But I was okay with it. Because I honestly really like my haircut. So I told her that I'd have to come back to her next time I needed a haircut, but she informed me that she would only be working there until the end of April, at which point she would graduate and move on to a different salon. So I told her that I'd just have to come see her before then, and figure out where she was going to, so I could find her next time.

So she made sure I had her full name, so I could request her for next time, and I thanked her and went on my way.

Fin.


And that's the story of my haircut. Huzzah!